


Getting There First

by someidiothasice



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Gen, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-11
Updated: 2011-04-11
Packaged: 2017-10-17 22:35:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/182011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someidiothasice/pseuds/someidiothasice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny gets there first. He's content to wait.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Getting There First

**Author's Note:**

> Coda to 1x18.

The first thing Danny thinks when he wakes up is _owowfuckingOW_ , because the sun is shining directly into his face and he's got one hell of a migraine going on. He winces and rubs at his face before he realizes that wait, his window has plenty of shade and the sun is never in his face like this and--

He rolls over and the second thing he thinks is _oh._

Danny lays there staring, still and silent, for a good five minutes.

Rachel is curled up on the armchair in the corner of the guest room. Her robe has slipped a little, leaving one pale shoulder bare through the curtain of messy hair falling over it. Her mouth is open and her eyes look puffy, as though she had been crying and he knows, Danny _knows_ , that when he had finally passed out her eyes were clear and dry.

Now, sleeping, she looks tired and drained and so, so beautiful.

He moves slowly, trying not to rustle the bedsheets too much as he sits up. He grins a little when he catches his tie and shoes on top of the dresser.

Rachel always used to chastise him about his habit of kicking his shoes off and leaving them wherever they fell. It was one of the many stupid little fights that had grown and escalated into screaming matches back when Grace was still in diapers, back when things really went to hell. Seeing them there, his tie tucked neatly into one shoe, makes him glance back over at her.

Rachel shifts, curling into herself a little more, and a lock of hair falls over her face.

Danny stares. He knows, deep in his heart, that they were all wrong for each other. They are two sides of the same coin: equally passionate, equally focused, and equally stubborn. Their marriage had been a speeding rollercoaster, constantly up and down, and it had ultimately gone off its rails and exploded in a spectacular ball of flame. Everybody had said that they married too young, too soon, and hey, it looked as though everyone was right all along.

But he still loves her. After all, she is the mother of his child. Danny doesn't think that he'll ever be able to _stop_ loving her. As much as he had hated her back then and wanted to cause her pain he had always loved her. Only it was never about love. If only it was. They might've been able to work through their issues and maybe, just maybe, Danny would never have been dragged out to this godforsaken island. They just hadn't been able to make each other truly happy, the way she was now. With Stan.

Shaking his head to clear it a little is a mistake, made obvious when the veins in his temples threaten to implode, but it helps ground him enough to propel himself to his feet. He crosses the room and crouches in front of the chair that houses his ex-wife. She lets out a tiny snort and he drops his head, shoulders shaking in silent laughter.

"Oh, babe," he says fondly. Danny rises to his feet and brushes the hair back from her forehead, dropping a kiss just heavy enough to startle her awake.

"Daniel." Rachel blinks up at him and yeah, her eyes are rimmed in red and he can see a few crusty slugs sitting in the corners. Tell tale signs of her distress. For him. "Good morning."

Something in his chest swells painfully and he smiles down at her.

"Morning. C'mon, let me make you guys some pancakes."

When he steps back and holds his hand out she doesn't hesitate to accept it.

 

*

 

By the time he gets back to his apartment it's just past eight o'clock and he's only got about twenty minutes to shower and shave before work.

Only when he pulls up to his parking spot there is a bulky, ugly truck sitting happily in his space.

Danny grins when he opens the door to his apartment and just stands there for a full minute, letting the scene soak in.

Steve is sprawled out diagonally across his sofa bed, and he's far too large for it so his sneakered feet are hanging off the edge. There is a pillow stuck to his face with drool and a barbie being suffocated under his thigh and Danny's about to slam the door loudly, just for the amusement factor of watching his partner flail about in his sheets, when he sees it.

A brown paper bag sits on his countertop, soggy at the bottom with condensation, familiar bottletops peeking out over the top of the bag at him.

Danny closes the door quietly and walks over to the edge of the bed. He stands and stares down at his friend and another warm feeling swells up in his chest. It feels the same as when he looked upon Rachel, only it's... different somehow.

Steve pushes his face into the flat pillow and his left arm comes up to clutch at it. Danny catches the way his muscles shift under his shirt, the way his eyelashes flutter against his cheeks, the tight little roll Steve's entire body goes through before his eyes open and he rolls to his side and his hazel eyes seek Danny out and for the second time that day he thinks _oh._

"Hey," Steve says huskily. He grins, small and lazy, and Danny gives himself a full ten seconds to panic and think _well, that explains so much,_ before he accepts the inevitable and just grins down at his partner.

"Good morning, Goldilocks." Danny nudges one of Steve's oversized feet with his knee playfully. "I don't suppose you're actually familiar with the tale. She ends up in the bed that's 'just right', not the one that's about four sizes too small."

There's something in him screaming _DANGER, WILL ROBINSON!_ because he's not sure he wants to open this can of worms just yet. But Steve just props himself up on his elbows and waves to the counter.

"I brought beer. I tried calling, but it rang and rang." Steve rubs his eyes, and again that something he doesn't want to identify yet swells in his chest. Then Steve kicks his bad knee. "I hope you brought breakfast. That mattress is a device of evil."

"There's porridge in the fridge, papa bear." Danny roots through his clothes and finds a t-shirt that might stand up against Steve's shoulders and tosses it at Steve's face. "Give me ten and I'll be ready to go."

He takes the quickest shower he can and gets another pang low in his belly when he comes out in a towel and sees Steve in his shirt, in his kitchen, eating his cold lo mein out of the carton. He gets a kind of perverse thrill when he turns around and drops his towel, hearing the clink of silverwear that tells him Steve just dropped his fork. He bends over to put on a pair of pants slacks sans underwear, talking over his shoulder as he gets dressed.

"We need to discuss this whole 'mi casa, su casa' thing, partner," he says. Danny grins when he hears a _thud_ followed by a sharp hiss that tells him Steve just whacked his head on the counter. He faces the window, away from Steve, and as he buttons his pants he tries not to gloat too much. He loves this feeling.

Danny turns and grabs a button down that he shrugs on, watching Steve closely. Steve's eyes are fixed inside of the carton as he chases something around inside it with his chopsticks. "What if I decided to bring someone home last night?"

"I'd have cleared out, of course," Steve says and if it sounds a bit choked Danny... well, he can't really put it down to anything else at this point. Oh a whim Danny stretches his arms up and out, then he chews his lip when he sees the way Steve's eyes flicker down when he begins to button his shirt up. "I'm not a complete tool, Danno," Steve tells his chest.

"Well, that's debatable." Danny leaves the top button undone and rolls his sleeves up. He sits on the edge of the bed to pull on a pair of socks and debates how to bring up what happened last night. "Look, about Matt..." he begins, but then he trails off when he realizes he has no idea what to say that Steve won't already know.

"Hey, you did what you had to do." Danny looks up and Steve is staring at him intensely. The look is only slightly hindered by the sauce around his mouth and chin. Something about his sloppiness makes Danny feel soft inside. "We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"Just like that?" Danny walks to the small kitchenette, gently moving Steve out of the way with one hip so he can get to his fridge. He moves the sixer from the counter to a nearly empty shelf in the refrigerator and when he turns around Steve is right there, in his space.

"Yeah, just like that." Steve says and he gives Danny a small, intimate smile.

 _DANGER DANGER DANGER!_ his mind says, but he ignores it in favor of reaching out with one hand.

Steve's eyes go wide and he gets a wonderfully confused look on his face, and something inside of Danny sings because it's always an awesome feeling to get there first. He reaches around Steve and tears off a paper towel.

"I'm driving, Rain Man," he says, then he shoves the paper towel in Steve's face. "Clean yourself up and I'll meet you out front. Lock up behind you."

Danny grabs a tie, stuffs his feet into his loafers, and walks out the door. He wraps the tie around his neck and leaves it loose as he gets in his car and checks his phone.

 **Five Missed Calls**

He snorts down at it and when he checks, yeah, they're all from Steve. Who gets into the passengers seat quietly, smiles over at him, and lays a hand on his forearm.

"Hey, raincheck on the beer?"

Danny glances over at his friend and smiles. Sure, he gets it now, but Steve's still not quite there yet. That's fine with him, though. It'll give Danny some time to decide what the hell he's going to do with this new information.

"Yeah." He glances over his shoulder to back out of his complex and manages to hold back his grin when Steve takes a moment before letting go. "Yeah, I'd like that."


End file.
